


A King In The Light

by jenniferwalters



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, i guess shes an oc i mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferwalters/pseuds/jenniferwalters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little things that happened after The Blight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. coronation

**Author's Note:**

> I love Alistair more than myself (almost) so I was like "Hey, mimi, why don't you be coolguy and write some dumb shit?" and I was like "aiight" so here we are.  
> My Warden is called Téa so I'll be using her. Bye now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> king alistair, of my heart

I have no idea how a coronation works so bear with me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

**“I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.”**

☽

 

                Alistair had not been looking forward to this day. He believed he was ready, the day he cut the neck of Loghain Mac Tir; the day he banished Anora; the day _she_ had said the words of betrothal to _him_. But as he woke, he realised that today wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.

               

                He was oddly chilly as he dressed in the robes that were provided for him. She watched as he hopped on one foot, in an attempt to dress himself. She laughed as he fell backwards, and his heart warmed a little. It was so difficult to believe, that a rose as pure as her, had been killed on the battlefield. It was not hard to remember, and it certainly won’t be easy to forget.

               

                The town of Denerim were ecstatic – a new king! Celebrations were to commence at his crowning, but it surely wouldn’t be the last rejoice. A wedding as well as coronation, and Maker knows what else the royals have up their sleeves. The town was decorated in both Theirin and Cousland crests, coloured flags hanging from any place to bring light to the formerly dull town. Only nobles and those of importance were granted access to the castle, leaving multiple Denerim citizens in despair. They would celebrate as Alistair was granted his rightful place on the throne; their belief that he would lead Ferelden to success thriving.

 

                Alistair, in a thick plethora of fur and intricate armour, emerged from a side room, making a slow pace towards the throne where he would sit, in about five minutes. The blue runner that slept the length of the room had been replaced with a ‘Theirin rug’ – it was much darker, but Alistair didn’t see the need for change. He watched his legs as he walked, hoping something large – like a dragon – would call off the whole thing. He felt queasy, his stomach agreeing with his mind that this was a bad idea.

He stood at the bottom of the steps, almost falling over himself, as he did not realise how close he was to his destination. He glanced up at Arl Eamon – the one who would crown him king. He gave him a weak smile, and the Arl returned the look. Alistair’ eyes darted to the small gathering at the top of the steps. Not a lot of familiar faces, but one he did recognise: Téa Cousland. A fellow Grey Warden, a friend, and now, most importantly (to him), his betrothed. She gave him a small smile, one that boosted his confidence – slightly.

 

                The Arl gestured to Alistair, who gazed up at him, his breath struggling to come through normally. As his former guardian spoke, Alistair’s mind went back to a previous thought: Grey Warden. As soon as the crown was placed on his head, he would no longer be a Grey Warden, the vocation he had devoted his life to. He could continue to fight, yes, but it may not have the same effect on him as it had when he was challenging The Blight. A globus cruciger was held in front of his face. He took it in his hands, then was handed a sword. Balancing one in each hand, he listened as the Arl spoke:

“I hereby crown Alistair Theirin, the remaining member of the royal family, as the King of Ferelden.”

The orb and sword were taken from his hands, and he kneeled on the steps. With his head bowed, the Arl placed the golden crown on his nephew’s head. Alistair hadn’t realised he had closed his eyes until the sounds of clapping and cheering echoed through the room. He stood and turned, facing his town. His people. He felt the need to wave, and he could barely control himself. He turned his head to see Téa smiling broadly. He offered his hand and she took it, the two standing side by side, making their way down the room runner, outside to Denerim, where the townsfolk were waiting for their new king.

 

* * *

 

**A/N This is so messed. Coronations can suck my cock**

 


	2. wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE BIG DAY HAS ARRIVED FOR MY TWO FAVOURITE CHILDREN

**“I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we’re from the same star.”**

☽

               If he felt nervous about his coronation, he felt like melting into a pool of water at the thought of a wedding. He shivered on a constant, his breathing laboured – and he hadn’t even seen his betrothed yet! He imagined how she must look – breathtaking, no doubt. The wedding was to be held outside, as per request of Téa herself (she had said it was too beautiful a day for the sun to go to waste. How wise of her).  Alistair’s dark eyes bounced over the crowd, finding familiar faces. Leliana, Wynne, Oghren, and Sten, even. A few faces he had passed during his travels had appeared in Denerim, and he was surprised. He even saw Goldanna – not a pleasant sight. He glanced away, just as the music was beginning to play, signalling the arrival of – oh, such a pretty sight.

 

               Téa had not been nervous for anything – up until she locked eyes with Alistair. As soon as she saw his eyes light up and that hopeless grin take home on his face, she felt her face burning up. She never believed she would live to see this day (especially with the most recent events, regarding a certain demon dragon); and if she would, she would be marrying some oddball noble – well, that was exactly who she was marrying. Her dress was being tugged lazily by the wind, the white Orlesian silk cooling her skin. A matching veil seemed to be made of gossamer, fuzzing her features slightly. She made sure her laurel wreath had not fallen off her head, and she was safe. Fergus had walked her up to Alistair, muttering that her hand was clammy and wiping it on his robes. The siblings made it up to the makeshift stage, Fergus standing off to the side, wishing his little sister luck.

 

               Red roses. She held red roses in her hands, and as if by some new sense, Alistair could see the one he had given her – still as lively as ever. He met her deep ocean eyes, and she smiled her perfect smile. He kissed her knuckles, she blushed, and the two turned to face the Chanter, who would marry them that day.

 

               The celebrations were just as loud and spectacular as they were on Alistair’s coronation. Now, the town – and all of Ferelden – could hold festivities, in honour of the king and his new queen. The after party was held in the Royal Palace, the former Grey Wardens speaking to former companions.

 

               “I did not recognise you in that dress, my friend! If I had not seen Alistair up there, I would not have known why I was here.” Leliana gave her congratulations to the newlyweds, then spoke to Téa about Orlais, where she would return on the morrow. She asked if Morrigan had turned up, but Téa only shook her head, sipping from her goblet.

 

               The day ran into night, and Téa knew she made the correct choice on holding the ceremony outside. She stood on her new balcony, one that looked over her new home, the stars looking down on her, like countless eyes. It was more comforting than unsettling – to her, at least. If Alistair wasn’t so careless, he could’ve snuck up on her like he planned, but she expected him to pick her up like he did, a growl of pleasure erupting from his throat. She laughed, keeping herself balanced in his arms. Pray Andraste they don’t topple over the railing.

 

               “What a day,” He exclaimed, putting her back on her feet. He held her close, his eyes looking out over Denerim. Téa nodded, tracing her fingers over the edges of his robes. She had only seen him in armour – it was a nice change. “Hey, you’re a queen now!” Alistair exclaimed, looking down at his new wife. Wife. It was weird to say.

               “It’s about time.” This made Alistair laugh, and Téa grinned. She loved hearing his laugh. It always quavered slightly when she said something, and she thought that he was nervous around her. Zevran – Maker rest him – would always say that Alistair was so irrevocably in love with her that he could barely stand straight.

               “Oh, I’ve got something for you.” He left her on the balcony, heading to the chest by the bed. He fished through the contents, his back clicking in protest at his position. He winced, soon spotting his gift. He carefully picked it up, hiding it behind his back as he walked back to the balcony. He held out an intricate Orlesian box, Téa eyeing it with curiosity. He raised his eyebrows in a way to urge her to open the box, which she had no hesitation of attempt. With a loud click, the box opened itself, revealing an old necklace in remarkable condition. The family crest – it was her mother’s.

                “You saved something of mine, so I thought I’d return the favor.” After a little while, he spoke again: “Actually, your brother found it and told me to give it to you so it wasn’t _really_ –“

“Alistair, don’t ruin the moment.” He blushed, raising both shoulders in embarrassment. After a small while of admiration, Alistair helped clasp the necklace around her neck, smiling to himself. Téa couldn’t feel more grateful – or blessed. “I’ve got a present for you.” She spoke, making Alistair blink out of his stare.

               “It better not be another… _dark_ ritual involving sex.” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she stifled a laugh.

               “I can assure you, there’s no sex.” She teased, making Alistair frown. She took his hand in hers and walked backwards toward the bed, her eyes trained on his. He swallowed thickly – he was never prepared for this. A sudden hit of impulse flowed through him, and he pulled Téa close, capturing her in a kiss. He picked her up off the floor, making her yelp against his mouth; as he led her to the bed, where the night would be lost.

 

* * *

 

**A/N  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**   
**Tell me what you guys want to see? I want at least 5 chapters in this but I'm honestly stuck (hence why this took so long to upload)**


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